Haryntha stopped beside him, looking at him with a question in her expression that she kept silent.
Jolthar stood still and looked around them slowly, taking in the landscape from ground level with fresh attention rather than continued forward momentum.
The nynthralls were everywhere, packed in their mindless multitudes against the shield's surface. Still, their distribution across the wider terrain beyond what he could see directly was the piece of information he was missing.
He needed height.
He let the telekinesis engage, the familiar sensation of it rising through his system with the ease of a technique his recovered channels could handle without complaint.
His feet left the corrupted ground and his body rose smoothly upward through the sphere of Haryntha's shield, the barrier adjusting around him as he went, lifting with him as though it understood what he was doing and intended to remain useful.
Ten meters up. Then twenty. Thirty.
